


A Boy And His Dog

by sneksonaplane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Daddy Kink, Daddy Peter, Frottage, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, PWP, Rimming, Xenophilia, little stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:30:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneksonaplane/pseuds/sneksonaplane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is a little, Peter can turn into an actual wolf, and xeno happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Boy And His Dog

“Daddy, look!”

Stiles is holding a dog toy in his hand. An honest to god dog toy, some pastel colored plush toy that squeaks when he squeezes it. For a moment Peter doesn’t say anything, just gives the younger boy his best unimpressed look. Because they don’t have a dog, and he knows right away who the toy is supposed to be for.

“That’s very cute, sweetheart.” His response is gentler than it would have been if “adult Stiles” had tried to pull something like this. As it is, his urge to take care of Stiles while he’s in his little headspace is too strong; he can’t bring himself to say anything that might wipe the excited grin off the boy’s face, even if he thinks he can detect a hint of mischief in Stiles’ wide brown eyes. The little bastard knows what he’s doing, taunting Peter when he’s too adorable and emotionally vulnerable for Peter to fight back. 

“It’s for you.” Stiles proclaims, thrusting the toy out in front of him for his daddy to take. Peter cringes away from the cheap looking chew toy which, upon closer inspection, looks like a pig. A squeaky little toy pig. _How lovely_. When he doesn’t get a reply from Peter, Stiles adds, “For you to play with when you’re a doggy. I liked playing with you when you were a doggy last time.”

He bats his eyelashes, and Peter can’t help but give in. With a pained sigh, he takes the offered toy into his hands.

“Thank you, Stiles.” Peter almost rolls his eyes at how _pleased_ Stiles is at his daddy’s unspoken admission of defeat. He’s quick to add, “However, I’m not a puppy. I’m a wolf. Wolves don’t play with dog toys.”

 

Peter bares his teeth in his most menacing growl, shaking his head back and forth with the chew toy gripped tight in his mouth until he dislodges it from Stiles’ hands. Stiles shrieks with laughter, like it’s the best trick he’s ever seen. Like they haven’t been at this game of tug-of-war for the past half hour. 

With a thoroughly unamused snort, Peter drops the toy he’d just won back into the boy’s lap so they can start the game all over again. He has time to wonder how the fuck he gets himself into these situations, into playing the role of oversized puppy for his little/boyfriend, but he can’t ponder his life choices for long. Because all of a sudden, Stiles is jumping to his feet and running off with a cry of, “Try to steal Mr. Bacon now, Daddy!”

Where he plans on running, Peter has no clue. They’re in Stiles’ playroom in the basement of their home; the only places for him to go are up the stairs or into the closet that holds most of his toys. He has to know he won’t make it to either location, too, not when he’s a slow runner even by human standards and he’s trying to outrun a werewolf.

Peter can’t expect a little to make sense, though. Peter can’t expect _Stiles_ to make sense. He reluctantly takes off after the boy, closing the distance between them in a few long strides and tackling Stiles to the ground. Stiles lands on the soft carpeted floor with a startled _oof_ , and he’s effectively pinned by Peter’s weight on his back, large paws draped over his shoulders and the wet nose of his daddy in wolf form nuzzling at the back of his neck. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to escape, squirming and wriggling even as he giggles ticklishly at the sensation of a broad tongue swiping over his neck and ear. 

“Daddy, no! No licking me!” He shrieks, batting uselessly at the mass of fur and unyielding muscle behind him. 

Peter lets up, even lifts enough of his weight off Stiles that he can roll over onto his back while still remaining trapped under the wolf. The chew toy- Mr. Bacon- has been forgotten now, tossed aside in Stiles’ halfhearted attempts to escape, and now the boy just looks up at Peter with flushed cheeks and begs with a breathless laugh for him to, “Lemme _go_ , Daddy. You’re crushing me!”

Peter will never admit how much these ridiculous, childish playtime sessions please the wolf in him, how he gripes and complains but inwardly rejoices at the chance to spend time with Stiles in his wolf form. To pin the boy down in a show of dominance and bathe him in Peter’s own scent- it’s satisfying in an odd, animalistic way. Plus the laughter it earns from Stiles, the way his heart pounds fast with adrenaline and the way he goes loose-limbed and relaxed even while he plays at trying to fight Peter off, neck bared trustingly- or submissively- all tell Peter’s wolf that he’s pleasing his mate, taking care of his mate. It’s all he needs to know to continue. 

With an amused huff and the wolf equivalent of a smirk, Peter remains sprawled over his boy and resumes licking him now that they’re face to face. He licks carelessly over Stiles’ jaw, cheeks and nose, letting out a soft warning growl and letting his teeth graze over Stiles’ jawline when the little tries to grab his face and push him away. 

He hears the skip in Stiles’ heartbeat before it speeds up even more, smells the change in his scent, and- 

_Oh._

Stiles is turned on, still moving restlessly beneath him but his laughter dying down as he too seems to notice his own arousal, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his shorts and pressing insistently against the fur on Peter’s stomach. 

Experimentally, Peter growls again, his chest rumbling with the sound as he ducks his head and bites playfully at Stiles’ neck, as gently as he can but still something the boy is sure to feel thanks to his sharp canine teeth. He presses more of his weight down onto Stiles, giving him something to grind the hard little bulge of his cock against. 

Stiles does so with a whimper, hips jerking erratically as he tries to find the best way to grind himself off against a giant wolf. It’s not exactly something he’s used to doing. This time when he grabs at the sides of Peter’s face, fingers tangling in the thick fur there, Peter doesn’t try to discourage him. Because this time it’s not to push him away, it’s just to give him something to hold onto while he whines out the words, “Daddyyy. Wanna play grownup games.”

That’s all it takes for Peter to shift back to his human form, the change occurring in under a minute and leaving him naked and still laid out over Stiles’ body. By now Stiles is unfazed by the not altogether pleasant sight of his daddy shifting from a wolf to a person; he just remains where he is on the floor, his arousal not fading at all. 

Now that he’s human Peter can run his hands over the expanse of Stiles’ body, grab at the boy’s bare hips where his shirt has ridden up and lazily roll his hips against Stiles’, letting the little feel how Peter’s own cock has grown hard since their wrestling devolved to shameless rutting. 

“You want to play grownup games, hm?” He breathes the words against Stiles’ lips and revels in the needy moan his actions earn him. “Want Daddy to make your little boy dick feel good? Make your pussy feel all full and warm with my come?” 

Stiles gasps and surges up to kiss Peter, desperate and openmouthed. “Mhm.” He agrees quickly, eager as ever but somehow _different_ in a way that makes Peter stop everything he’s doing and pull back just enough to get a good look at his boy’s face. 

“Stiles.” The stern, no-nonsense tone of Peter’s voice makes Stiles’ eyes darken with further arousal but also gets his undivided attention. “You know the rules. If we’re going to play grownup games, you have to tell me exactly what you want- or anything you don’t want.”

Stiles tends to be far less talkative during sex when he’s in his little headspace, always blushing and shying away from admitting out loud what he wants, but Peter finds it necessary to make him talk sometimes. Like now, when the boy clearly has something on his mind and might not be completely on board with what Peter has planned for them. He might feel too little to handle having actual, penetrative sex, or he might want something different, and Peter isn’t about to do anything to Stiles without his enthusiastic verbal consent. He’s not that much of a monster. 

Not quite meeting his daddy’s eyes, Stiles mumbles an answer that would probably be too quiet for a human to hear. Thankfully Peter isn’t human and hears him perfectly.

“Want what you said- want you in me, but like...inyourwolfform.” The last part is said so quickly that even if he can hear just fine, Peter has to struggle to understand it. Then he has to struggle to believe it, because-

“You want me to fuck you while I’m fully shifted?” The words come out harsher than he’d intended, but in his defense he’s in a state of mild shock. Plus, most of the blood left in his brain may have rushed straight to his cock the moment he’d imagined mounting Stiles while in wolf form, knotting him and pumping him full of come, _claiming_ him. 

He comes to his senses when Stiles flinches at his response, the little’s bottom lip wobbling as tears well up in his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” Peter finally sits up, so he can pull Stiles into his lap and stroke his hair comfortingly when he starts to cry. “Daddy’s not mad, it’s okay. You just surprised me.”

Stiles hides his face against Peter’s shoulder, wetting his daddy’s bare skin with tears and muffling the words, “Now, now you think I’m gross!” 

“I don’t think you’re gross, Stiles.” Peter reassures. “I think playing while I’m fully shifted is a great idea.”

Wide, teary eyes peer hopefully up at Peter. “You do?”

Peter nods and smiles at his boy, voice pitched low and soothing when he says, “You just need Daddy to pin you to the ground and fill you up with my cock, don’t you? Need me to mark you up inside, own you, even in my wolf form. My perfect little slut.”

He can see the moment Stiles’ arousal returns in full force, the little blinking a few remaining tears away as he bites his lip and squirms in Peter’s lap, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “Please. Wanna feel your knot in me.” 

His smile turning into something sharp, predatory, Peter reaches down to palm Stiles’ ass, fingers pressing over his hole through the fabric of his shorts. The boy’s mouth drops open on a moan, features going slack with pleasure at the slightest bit of stimulation. He really is the perfect whore, Peter thinks. Begging so sweetly to be opened up on his daddy’s knot. 

“You’ll get my knot, sweetheart.” He promises, unbuttoning Stiles’ shorts and beginning to undress him. “Just not today.” As expected, Stiles’ eyes begin to fill with tears again. It’s not an entirely unappealing sight, but Peter is quick to reassure, “Today we’ll start getting you ready to take my knot, get you used to playing with a wolf cock. Daddy’s knot is big- it will take lots of practice before you’re ready for it.”

He really doesn’t want to hurt Stiles by knotting him before the boy is ready. Besides, there are plenty of other things he has in mind for them to try, and Stiles is unsurprisingly eager to do everything his daddy suggests.

 

Stiles has the best daddy ever. His daddy reads him stories, and plays with him, and can turn into a giant puppy, and Stiles had thought there could be nothing better than that. He’s always wanted a puppy. But now he _has_ found something better. 

He’s on his hands and knees, his face pressed against the carpet while Daddy stands behind him in wolf form and drags his tongue in broad strokes over his balls, then all the way up to his hole where he’s already so hypersensitive and needy. The feeling alone is enough to make his toes curl, his cock drool a steady stream of precome. He can’t muffle the noises, the gasps and embarrassingly high pitched whines pouring out of him as that long tongue presses over and over his hole, leaves it feeling relaxed and slick and _hot_. 

But it’s not just the physical sensations, it’s also the knowledge that even though the wolf behind him is Daddy, it’s still a _wolf_. An _animal_ licking him all over, prickly snout pressing insistently against his ass and leaving his skin feeling sensitive and warm and likely red with something similar to beard-burn. It’s preparing him to be knotted, wolf cock probably dropping from its sheath, getting hard in anticipation of breeding Stiles up. Just thinking about what he’s doing, what he’s going to do, makes him feel flushed and achy all over with shame and need. 

Suddenly that tongue isn’t just licking over him in broad swipes. It’s prodding more firmly against his hole, pushing until he opens up just enough and then the wolf is licking _inside_ him. Teasing at where he’s so empty and sensitive. There’s a low growl that he can _feel_ in the way the wolf’s muzzle moves and shakes against his ass with the noise, and it’s too much. Stiles comes with a sob, his cock jerking against his stomach and spilling all over the floor below him. His hole flutters, clenches and unclenches around the long tongue that just keeps fucking into him even while he comes apart.

 

Stiles feels drunk, his face warm and his head spinning, every part of his body sensitive to the touch. His daddy is still licking patiently at his hole and his balls, and he can’t handle it, it’s so good it’s almost painful. He can’t bring himself to move, though, even spreads his knees wider and arches his back to give the wolf better access when it ducks its head beneath him and starts to lick up the come on his stomach and the head of his cock. Soon he has to protest, though, whining, “Daddy, stop it. Too much.”

There’s a pause before it backs off, then walks around him until they’re face to face. He looks up and meets a pair of familiar blue eyes. The way they’re looking at him, sharp and predatory and hungry, is familiar too. But it’s different on the face of a wolf. It makes him feel like his daddy really would eat him just as soon as he’d fuck him. Makes him whine again and bare his throat, tilt his ass up further like an offering. 

Daddy always likes it when Stiles takes on a submissive posture for him, and this time is no exception. Soon there’s warm breath and that tongue again all over his neck, moving all the way up to his face, his lips, and making his face burn bright red. Before he can decide if he wants to pull away or open his mouth, the wolf circles back around and presses up against him from behind. Suddenly there’s weight and heat and soft fur on his back, knocking the breath out of him and it’s only when he feels something hard and slick nudge between his ass cheeks that he realizes what’s happening.

He’s being mounted.

Stiles keens, can barely hold himself up as the wolf starts to rut against him, cock grinding filthily against him. The blunt tip catches on his hole a few times, but never pushes inside. Part of him wishes it would, that his daddy would just shove into him uncaring and rough like a real animal. Mostly he’s just overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation against his hole, the knowledge that a wolf is frotting against him, using his body as nothing more than a warm surface to grind off against. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and he can only tilt his ass up into the pseudo-fucking and groan in a wordless plea for more. He’s hard and dripping again by the time the wolf comes, its knot swelling between their bodies and come splattering across Stiles’ ass and back.

_He wants to feel that knot in him. Needs it. It would stretch him open so good, keep him stuffed full and leave him messy and dripping with come. Even feeling it in his hands or mouth would be better than this, he just has to see that hard red wolf cock standing out from its sheath, the bulge of the knot and the watery come it’s coating his skin with._

Stiles faintly realizes that he’s whining incoherently, feels himself start to grind his ass back against that fat knot until the wolf snarls and grazes its teeth over the back of his neck, front paws tightening their hold on his waist like a warning to stay still. 

For awhile after that it’s like he’s just floating, lost in sensation and his own fantasies. He barely registers it when the wolf finishes coming, or when the body pressed up against him changes from a wolf to a human. He does recognize the sound of his daddy’s voice, though, saying his name and crooning about what a good boy he is as familiar hands roam over his skin. They touch everywhere besides his hard cock, but Stiles thinks he’s okay with that. He’s not sure he could handle coming again.

By the time he’s aware of his own surroundings again, he’s not on the floor anymore. He’s on the couch, head resting on Daddy’s chest and his thumb in his mouth. At some point Daddy must have cleaned him up, because his skin doesn’t feel tacky with sweat and come; he just feels warm, warm and loose-limbed and comfortable laying on top of his daddy. 

His daddy who smiles when Stiles blinks up at him, continuing to suck on his own thumb instead of saying anything. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” Daddy greets, and Stiles makes a noise around his thumb in response. “Did you like our new game?”

Stiles grins at that, finds the words he needs to respond and pops his thumb out of his mouth to say, “Yeah. Told you playing puppy would be fun.” 

Maybe now he’ll be able to convince Daddy to play with some of the other chew toys Stiles had bought for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry? Talk to me about gross things and daddy kink at steterfilth.tumblr.com


End file.
